


Keeper Of Secrets

by Merilsell



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Best Friends, Childhood Friends, Dalish Elven Culture and Customs, Dalish Elves, Dalish Origin, Friendship, Gen, Gen Work, Gift Fic, Light Angst, Male-Female Friendship, No Romance, Pre-Dragon Age: Origins, Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-20 10:46:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13716039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merilsell/pseuds/Merilsell
Summary: Each year in spring, the clan returned to the same spot in the Brecilian Forest for a few months. It was the one where Mahariel and Tamlen both -well maybe not met- but noticed each other in truth as kids.It had become a ritual for them to always visit this particular old oak when they arrived, to carve a mark into its thick trunk. Each mark stood for a year of their return to their place, of their friendship.





	Keeper Of Secrets

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MoonlightBrunette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonlightBrunette/gifts).



> Written for "The Salty Palentine" exchange. Prompt: A friendship scene between Tamlen and Mahariel with “a best friend item.” 
> 
> The simple sentence structure in the first long scene is by design, to suit the POV of a child.  

Tamlen first met Mahariel when he was five.

Well,  _met_  would be probably the wrong word, as both of them had been born and raised in the same clan. It was more the moment and year where he started to perceive her presence beyond being one of the girls he grew up with. While Tamlen raced the other kids through the woods and climbed trees near their camp with them, Mahariel kept to herself. Shy and reserved, she rarely played with the other children of their clan, and always stayed close to their  _aravel_. She never strayed far from where Ashalle, her  _mamae_ _,_  was either. In fact, Tamlen thought she was boring girl. She had to be, to willingly spent so much time with all the grown-ups.

This all changed one sunny day in Bloomingtide. Spring had finally set in to its fullest after a harsh, long winter. The clan was still busy with setting up camp in the old spot, they had left behind months ago. Tamlen was bored; no one had time to play with him, despite the beautiful weather. So he decided to wander off into the woods alone. He watched a flock of birds soaring from a birch overhead into the sky and followed the footprints of an animal on the ground, like a hunter would. Drawn in by the sight of wild strawberries growing beneath the shadow of a gnarled, massive oak, Tamlen first didn't notice the girl crouching at the base of its thick roots. She held something in her hands and sobbed quietly.

"The little bird," she said, her voice small. "It fell out of its nest."

Tamlen walked over to her and recognized that the girl sitting there was Mahariel. Noticing his approach, she raised her cupped hands up to him, showing him the small creature lying motionless within. "I couldn't save it." Her voice wasn't more than a whisper and her large eyes shone with unspent tears.

"Is this why you are crying?"

Mahariel nodded, which caused him to frown. Tamlen still didn't understand why she was here, on her own. She had never left their camp before. "I followed a swarm of birds in the sky into the forest," she explained as the silence lingered. "Then I s-saw..." she hiccuped, wiping her snotty nose on her arm. "... how one of them fell out of the tree."

Crouching down, he took a closer look. The bird was an ugly, little thing; pink-skinned and completely naked. "My papae told me these things happen sometimes. That animals die. It is sad, but Fa-Fa-" He made a face, frustrated about how he couldn't remember the correct name.  

" _Falon'Din_ _?_ " Mahariel asked, glancing up to him.

"Y-yes." He pressed his lips together. "If this happens, Falon'din comes and guides them...  _away_." Tamlen couldn't recall the place where to either. Maybe should really start listening better to stories. But sitting down and listening was so  _boring_ , when he could run around and play hunter instead.

"Away...?" Her eyes widened. "You mean... into the Beyond?"

Oh, she was smart, knew all the words. Tamlen supposed she had to be, since she was spending so much time with the grown-ups. "Yes. We should bury the bird. So that  _Falon’Din_  finds it and guides it to its resting place."

Mahariel bit her lip, hesitated. She had stopped crying, at least. "I didn't tell  _mamae_  where I was going. I simply followed the birds."

"Don't worry," he said, patting her back. "We can tell Ashalle that you have been playing with me. So you won't get in trouble for running away."

Mahariel placed the dead animal in her lap to cross her arms. "But lying is bad! Fen'Harel will come to children who don't tell the truth."  

"I am here with you  _now_. So it is okay and not a lie." Tamlen knelt down and started digging at the loose earth between two broad roots. The soil felt wet and cold underneath his fingers, but he liked its smell. "And I want to help the bird to find its way through the Beyond, don't you?" The girl nodded. "I'm Tamlen."

"I know," she said with a brief giggle and started to help him digging. "I have seen you many times. You always romp around with the other kids through our camp. It is funny."

"It is?" Tamlen was surprised to hear her saying that. "Why did you never play with us, then?"

Mahariel lowered her head with a sigh. "Because no one  _wants_  to play with me. They never asked if I wanted to. So I stayed with  _mamae_  instead."

"This is not true," Tamlen protested, yet knew in the same moment that it was. Since she had always been in camp around the elders, listening to their stories and little else, no one had ever bothered to ask her to tag along. They all had believed that she wasn't interested... which had been  _wrong_ _,_  and it made him feel bad. He wanted to fix that. "We can play together. I can be your friend."

"Really?" Her whole face lit up. "I would like that, Tamlen."

"Me too." He leaned back to sit on his heels and observed the small hole they had dug into the ground together. It would be deep enough for an animal so tiny. "You can put the little birdie now in here...  _um_ , - " Only now Tamlen noticed that he never asked for her birth name.

"Lyna," she said quickly with a smile and did like she was asked. She halted for a moment before letting go off the creature. "A-are you sure we won't get in trouble for this?"

"Yes." He nodded and begun to fill the hole with earth, to bury the animal. "This can be our secret, Lyna. A secret is different and not a lie."

"A secret?" she gasped out, and helped him once more. "Like... in the stories with Dirthamen?" Tamlen couldn't recall who that was either, but agreed to her nonetheless. He really needed to listen more to the elders and their stories. However, he felt proud as he remembered something else instead and needed to tell her.

"We... should say a prayer for the bird," he said as they had finished filling up the hole; its little grave now complete.

"Yes!" Lyna reached for a few green leaves and tiny twigs on the ground next to her, to place them on top of the bird's grave.  

"O _Falon'Din_ , Leth...- friend to the dead," he started, covering up how he couldn't pronounce the complicated elvhen word. "Guide my soul, calm my feet..."

"You are saying it wrong, Tamlen!" Lyna interrupted him with a giggle.  

"And you have dirt on your face!" Tamlen laughed and poked her with his earth-stained hands, smearing the dirt across her cheek. Lyna didn't hesitate to retaliate, and lunged at him. The impact threw both of them on the ground, where they ended up rolling through the leaves, old pine needles and dirt, laughing.

When they ceased their attacks on each other, they were both completely filthy with damp soil clinging to their clothes, faces and hair. Tamlen knew they rather would get lectured for  _that_ than running off on their own _,_  but he didn't care.

He had found a friend.

  


********

  


Ever since that day, now many years ago, Tamlen and Lyna had become inseparable. She had always been at his side; be it during hunting training, learning together about their history from the clan elders, or racing each other through woods for fun. She'd been there when his father got sick and the many, lonely and angry days and weeks after as he passed away. Lyna was his best friend, moral compass and sister, and Tamlen didn't know what he would do without her.  

Each year in spring, the clan returned to the same spot in the Brecilian Forest for a few months. It was the one where they both -well maybe not met- but noticed each other in truth. And over time, the tree underneath which they buried the bird as kids had become a symbol of their friendship. It had become a ritual for them to always visit this particular old oak when they arrived, to carve a mark into its thick trunk. Each mark stood for a year of their return to their place, of their friendship.

Days after Tamlen and Lyna together had made the tenth mark into the tree, she had vanished from their camp for a whole day. Upon returning from a day of hard training, Ashalle accused him of dragging Lyna into trouble, which he admittedly had done often in the past. Now as restless teen with too much energy and ideas, it even happened on a more regular basis, to the point of the elders thinking of him as a bad influence on her.

 _Screw them,_  he thought as he glared down on Ashalle.  _Screw them all. They know nothing about her._

"I told you, I haven't seen her!" Trying to keep his voice even, Tamlen channeled the nervous energy in walking up and down in front of her. "I have been hunting with my teacher the whole day. Just ask Harshal, he will tell you the same!" Typical, of course they would suspect him. As a stickler for rules, it was highly unusual for Lyna to disappear on her own. The last and only time she had done this had been - His head snapped up first to Ashalle, then to the sky, already colored in hues of orange and fiery red. It would be night soon. "But I know where she is, maybe."

Not waiting for her reply, Tamlen darted past the woman and his clansmates lingering behind her, toward the forest. The scent of pine and damp soil mingled with the breeze and everything blurred into dizzying blend of earthly colors as he ran along the path he'd taken countless times before. They had never told anyone of this place,  _their_  place, close to camp and yet hidden, special. It had remained their secret, like promised many years ago as children.

_Like Dirthamen._

The thought caused Tamlen to smile, the memories fond, precious like the few shadowy beams of light breaking through the dense canopy that followed his chase.

He found her huddled beneath the safety of their tree, sitting in the embrace of its thick, parted roots. "Lyna!" Hugging her knees, she didn't react at first and only looked up as he stood right in front of her. Tears shimmered in her eyes, she had been crying. "What is wrong?"

"Oh, Tam..." She started, but her voice cracked, was brittle like the dead leaves underneath his feet. It worried him even more, because Lyna was always so strong and compassionate otherwise. Seeing her crying like she did as yesteryear kid here, was so unlike everything he knew of her. Tamlen sat down next to her, rested a hand on her shoulder and waited for her to calm down. "I heard them talking," Lyna said eventually.

"Who?"

"Marethari and Ashalle." She licked her lips, exhaled shakily. "About my parents. What happened to them. How I should never know about it."

Tamlen's bare forehead furrowed as he looked at her. "I overheard their conversation... I didn't mean to," Lyna explained, picking up on his confusion.

"Your father... had been our Keeper before Marethari, right?"

Lyna nodded and leaned back at the tree's gnarled trunk, right underneath their marks carved within. Together they watched how dusk silhouettes of crimson light faded even further, giving way for the darkness. "Our family line reaches back to the emerald knights, or so I was told, when I asked why I have a surname that differs from my clan name," she said after another long while had passed. "But... this is irrelevant to what I heard." Lyna gasped out, sadness clouded her features. "It is more about how they...  _died_."

Shock crossed his face. "What?"

"The  _shemlen_  killed my father, Tam!" She burst into a new bout of sobs. Tamlen took her into his arms, trying to make it better and hating that he failed. Anger twisted his guts, hot and searing it burned, for  _them;_ these damn shemlen who had taken everything away from their people and still did. "I-it was an ambush... my mother, she survived the attack," Lyna cried. "Long enough to give birth to me, I suppose."

Tamlen hugged her more tightly for a moment. "I am so sorry, lethallan." He let go again and glanced down to her. "Is there something I can do to help?"

"No." Lyna quickly shook her head. "I wasn't even supposed to know that... and maybe it would have been better if I hadn't."

He huffed out a brisk laugh, though it lacked the humor. "Another secret, then?"

"I guess so..." she agreed, her voice quiet, sounding tired.

"Like in the stories of  _Dirthamen_ , huh?"

"Yes." Her mouth curved into a faint smile at that, but faded quickly again. "Thank you, Tamlen. For always being at my side, strong and steady like the tree behind us."

"There is no need for a thanks." He placed a chaste kiss on her bare forehead. "You are my sister, my lethallan, after all. We take care of each other."

  


****

  
It was the year of the thirteen's mark, in the sweltering heat of summer that lingered through the night, were both of them got their vallaslin. The air was rich with the fragrances of jasmine, spiced wine and roasted meat, when they snuck away from the festivities celebrating their coming of age. Tired but giddy they ran through the woods, hand in hand, toward their oak.

Lyna and Tamlen sat down on the tapestry of leaves with the spreading canopy of green overhead. There in the hollow of the tree's twisting branches, they silently watched their new strange faces, now adorned with twirling lines of their chosen gods. A smile painted itself upon Lyna's freckled face, rose-pink lips semi-illuminated by the dappled light of morning.

"Like  _Dirthamen_ , huh?" She pointed at his forehead and laughed out loud. "It looks good on you, Tam. You really  _are_ my keeper of secrets."

Tamlen didn't want to laugh, because his face still did hurt and he was exhausted from a night of sitting in complete silence. But seeing Lyna smiling so brightly, being so happy, here, together, he could help to give in to the impulse. Her laughter was too contentious.

"And you are my twin sister,  _Falon'Din_."

"Your twin?" Lyna grinned, stuck out her tongue to him. "Nah, I am much prettier than you. Quicker with the bow too." Tamlen snorted, yet couldn't object to anything she had said. She swatted his arm lightly. "But you are my brother, my best friend, and I will always stay at your side,  _lethallin_."

Again, she was telling the truth, for he would do the same.

  


********

  


Her hands touched the tree, feeling the blisters, the curling of the rough bark underneath. The tips of her finger drove over each mark made within, counting them. The latest, fourteen's mark was enveloped in resin. Their carving of the knife into the bark had been too deep, left a wound that the tree tried to heal.

Looking up, Lyna's eyes caught the chords of light that streamed through the green leaves above. It seemed muted, less bright somehow. She blinked faster, trying to escape the tears pooling in her eyes, but it was a hopeless race. Coming here to the old oak, their place, had always been a refuge and solace for her. Now,  _now_  it only added to the pain furling inside of her, the sense of loss only multiplied by the oak's existence. There would never be another mark made into its trunk, no secrets spun and kept under its swaying branches.

There was nothing left here for her.

Lyna heard the snap of twigs and rustle of leaves behind her, announcing the  _shemlen's_  arrival. "Are you ready?"

She shut her eyes, didn't turn around to him, nor replied. With her fingers still touching the bark, she remembered the prayer Tamlen attempted to recite here so many years ago.

 _O Falon'Din. Lethanavir - friend to the dead. Guide_ his _feet, calm_ his _soul, lead him to_ his _rest._

Lyna scrunched up her face in the effort to stifle her sobs, but a single one yet escaped her throat. Leaning her forehead against the tree, she breathed out and shook with silent grief. She remained still for a moment, allowed herself this, despite the looming presence of the human and its meaning behind her. After counting up to fourteen, the number of their marks made into the oak, she let go.

"Yes, I am ready to do my duty." Lyna turned around to him at last and shouldered her bow. "Let's us leave, Warden."


End file.
